to j.a.r

I can still see where you bit me. Just.

You wouldn't know that's what it was unless you'd been told.

A small oblique, a little diamond.

I told people that it was an insect bite. (weak)

Or where I'd been play fighting with the boys. (believable under the circumstances)

I called it a UDI and blamed it on a good night.

It hurts me to look at it.

But like a wobbly tooth, I keep checking for it, toying with it, immersing myself in the pain.

There were scratches too.
On my belly, my side, my thighs.

With your nails you mapped my topography and left me red raw.

I didn't think it was going to be nothing.

I didn't think it was going to be random.

I don't let randoms do things that 'touch' me.
I don't let randoms mark me.

If it had just been random sex, well it wouldn't have happened- what do I want with random sex? But if it had been, I don't think I would feel this bad.

I didn't want to begin 'something serious', I'm in no position for that.
And I realise that it's not advisable to sleep with people who you want to be friends with, but I did think we would be friends.
It's a bad habit of mine, the misdirection of emotions into physical love.

I thought you understood. We had talked.

You know things about me that I keep close,

you told me secrets that scared me.

I felt something,

I thought you did to.

And that's why even though there was no penetration,

well not that kind of penetration,

I feel more used than if you had forced me.

I find manipulation so much more painful than violence.